When the shriveled skin of the ordinary is stuffed out with meaning, it satisfies the senses amazingly.

It might be possible that the world itself is without meaning.

Where the Mind is biggest, the Heart, the Senses, Magnanimity, Charity, Tolerance, Kindliness, and the rest of them scarcely have room to breathe.

I want to write a novel about Silence," he said; “the things people don’t say.

A good essay must have this permanent quality about it; it must draw its curtain round us, but it must be a curtain that shuts us in not out.

I read the book of Job last night, I don't think God comes out well in it.